


Hear Me out

by colocakes



Series: Heart A La Mode [4]
Category: Tegami Bachi | Letter Bee
Genre: Amnesia, M/M, Mystery, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-07-27 10:56:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 14,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7615321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colocakes/pseuds/colocakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Well go ahead and lie to me, you could say anything. Small talk will be just fine. Your voice is everything...We owe it to love, and it all depends on you." - Hear Me Out by Frou Frou</p><p>The person beside him is wheezing. They are weak, small, and he can hear hushed sobs slipping from them. He isn’t sure why, but he's happy they're there. To die with someone so dear to him, under the stars, was a comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The second au! This one is more gruesome and dark, less endearing...but I enjoyed it!

Supplement information! This takes place in the comic, the same world but about 200 years after the fact. Reverse saved the world, the sun was destroyed, and they became heroes. And thats all i'll say, as it'll spoil the rest.

Inspiration: “hear me out” by frou frou  
warnings: gore, ideologically sensitive themes, “shota”, ooc  
disclaimer: I own nothing!

Onward!

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“journal”

 

The first time he woke up, it was in a hospital room. Cold and sterile, covered in bandages and IVs. He hadn’t known up from down, his name, or anything about his life up to that point. His first memory was of a man with gnarled scar tissue under an eye patch and slicked back hair looking down at him.

“You're awake. That’s a relief.”

A week had gone by before he saw the man again. This time, it was in a sparsely furnished room, on a stiff couch before a desk. The man looked tired, as if he didn’t sleep enough. 

“My name is Dr Thunderland Jr. From this day on, I will be keeping an eye on you and your development.”

What a strange man. He spoke like this was more of a formality. As the days crawled by, he'd learn that that was exactly what that first visit was. A nice way to introduce him into his new life. A life, he found, that involved scalpels and needles.

And more recently, a journal. Dr Thunderland Jr explained that he should use it to express his thoughts, dreams, bodily changes, etc. Of course, as he learned, none of this was private. It was read and discussed weekly with him. 

His first entry is about snow. Its about a dream, startlingly vivid and much too clear for his comfort. 

He's running through a dank, frigid hallway, a second echo of feet behind him. It gives way to stark white, beautiful and soft beneath his aching bare feet. Snow is flurrying softly around him, ethereal in its beauty. 

They run for hours, it feels like. In those hours, he feels exhilaration, fear and an overwhelming joy to be in that endless world of frigid snow. When they fall from exhaustion, he doesn’t think to care. It isn’t until he sees the pink dyed edges around the person beside him, who is just out of sight, that he realizes something is wrong. 

The joy fades away. All he feels is emptiness. Expansive, endless. He knows he is going to die here. But it doesn’t scare him as much as he thinks it should. Above him is a sea of beautifully flickering stars. They seem to go on into eternity, and he isn’t sure if he's in the snow or drifting in the bank of stars that seem to cluster around him.

The person beside him is wheezing. They are weak, small, and he can hear hushed sobs slipping from them. He isn’t sure why, but he's happy they're there. To die with someone so dear to him, under the stars, was a comfort. 

“G-Gauche...I-I'm scared...”

When he wakes up, he's covered in sweat and staring at the smooth white ceiling of his room. There are no stars, no snow and the person is gone. In its place, is the 8x6 room that he's called home since he'd arrived. 

But now, as he writes down the words, he repeats that name out loud. It sounds...so familiar. 

Is it his name? 

He decides that it must be. 

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	2. Chapter 2

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“systematic”

 

“How was your therapy?” 

The young man turned, blinking. He'd just exited the office and had thought that he'd been alone. Sitting on the comfortable looking couch along the wall, sat a young boy with snowy hair and a big curious eye. He was watching Gauche as if he knew him, a thought that unnerved him. 

“Who are you...?” Gauche asked apprehensively.

Blinking, the boy looked hurt. His little mouth twisted into a sour frown. “You don’t remember me...?”

Something told the man he knew this child, but Gauche couldn’t summon a name. “I'm sorry.”

“That’s mean...” the boy mumbled. “But the doctor said you wouldn’t..”

Doctor? Thunderland Jr? Gauche felt distinctly uncomfortable. He made to walk past the boy, who blinked owlishly and grabbed his sleeve. Pausing, the man frowned and met the boy's gaze. He looked back at him, a frown on his chubby little face.

“Arencha gonna introduce yourself?” the boy asked. It sounded more like a demand. 

Why would I do that? Despite his unease, the young man sighed. “I'm Gauche...”

The boy blinked, frown easing into a pleased little smile. “I'm Lag. Lag Seeing.”

What a strange name. Glancing at the clock, the man gestured. “I need to get going.”

Lag hopped off the couch, coming up to his waist at most. “For blood tests, right?”

“How did...?”

The snowy haired boy blinked, gesturing to his own matching bracelet. “I got the same tests.”

Cheeky thing. Gauche noted just how observant, or perhaps prying, Lag was. He hadn’t noticed the glossy paper around the child's wrist until now. Sufficiently creeped out, the man began to head down the hall. Lag followed, tiny legs keeping pace surprisingly well. 

When Gauche glanced from the corner of his eye, he felt a shiver run up his spine to see the boy already watching him. His one, wide eye seemed to pierce through his flesh. And not in a good way. Swallowing, he forced himself to focus on the long hallway. 

The Bee Hive had long, winding hallways and tall windows that lined them. The medical wing was a winding maze, but Gauche had memorized all of the shortcuts by now. Pausing at a door, he felt that ever present gaze on the back of his head. 

Glancing over his shoulder, Gauche asked, “Why are you staring at me...?”

Lag blinked. “I'm not.”

“You are!”

Huffing, the boy crossed his arms. “Maybe its cuz your heads so big!”

“Excuse me...?” 

As if to cut the bickering males apart, the door opened and they were ushered into the lab. It was cold and smelled strongly of something neither could put a name of. Definitely not Gauche's favorite place. 

Glancing across the room, he noted that Lag was sniffling, teary eyed despite the needle already being pulled out. What a baby, Gauche thought, although he himself hissed quietly as he was pricked by one as well. 

Standard tests, he'd been told, to monitor the way the medicine interacted with his body. Lag seemed to be giving a bit more blood though, which seemed odd. Still, he was given a colorful looking candy, so it couldn’t be so bad.

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	3. Chapter 3

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“candles”

His first memory is of flickering candles in the dark little room. Its cold, painfully cold, and he can barely feel his fingertips. Sometimes, when he is finished with work, the boy can still feel his extremities and wishes for the cold to steal away the pain. 

The cold little room has no lights, no blankets to take the chill out of the hard stone floors. The sturdy wood door however, has a small slat with rusty bars over it. Through it, he can see the flickering of a candle in its holder. 

When Gauche is home sick and wishing fervently to see his little sister, that candle reminds him that this little cell isn’t everything he has left. 

Sometimes, when everyone is asleep and the guards are careless, he can hear little pattering foot steps outside his door. The first time he heard them, Gauche thought he might have been hallucinating from hunger. There’s a soft, nasal voice though, that whispers loudly in the silence. 

“Momma says to give you dinner...”

Blinking sluggishly, he had thought he was going crazy for sure. Voices offering food...? But then there was a bundle stuffed through the lower slat, the one he often got bowls of sludge like food through. It drops when the holder grows tired of waiting for the exhausted fifteen year old to take it, falling open to reveal bread and a neatly wrapped canister of something liquid. 

At first, Gauche expected it to be a cruel joke or maybe just another of his hallucinations. He's had many of those before now, it wouldn’t be a surprise. Still, his hunger urges him forward and he grabs for the bread first. 

The voice is silent, before a curious sepia colored eye peers through the slat. If Gauche still cared about how he looked, he'd probably be embarrassed. He's skin and bones, his flimsy clothing is tattered, his skin is smudged with dirt and his hair falls in greasy strips. Still, the curious onlooker doesn’t seem too concerned.

Gauche supposes, although he isn’t sure how he can be certain, that the little child on the other side of the door has seen worse. From beyond the door, he can see the faint light of a candle. 

Later, when he's recounting this memory to Dr. Thunderland Jr, Gauche feels a strange warmth about that curious eye. He remembers how beautifully lit it was by that flickering light and how much he began to look forward to the child's presence every subsequent night. 

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	4. Chapter 4

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“walk”

The hallways were long, dark and miserably cold. The hardest part, Gauche reasoned, was traveling to and from the building sites in the underground maze of stone. At only ten years old, he was a thin child, wiry even. It made keeping warm a hard task. 

Still, it meant he could earn money. Money, he had found upon being kicked out of his home, meant life. 

And it seemed there was no shortage of money in the tall, ancient fortress. There were at least a dozen other people who crawled the walls, making repairs where the foremen directed. It wasn’t particularly challenging work, but it was hard. 

Another thing he'd found, was that Blue Notes Blues was not only extremely out of the way, but covered in snow. Sub zero, biting, skin peeling, snow. 

These memories, Gauche could summon with ease. Even when other memories were only blurry, vague thoughts, these weren’t Much like how he knew his name. Knew his little sister Sylvette's name, even knew the name of the place he'd worked in as a child. 

Lag however, remained a constant mystery to him. 

The boy followed him like a puppy, talking about this and that, never letting the man relax long enough to enjoy the peaceful silence that came with a trip down the halls of the Bee Hive. It felt a bit like Lag went out of his way to be so insistent with his demands to be near him.

It also hurt to see the boy. His head pounded when he spent time near him. Not only due to how loud the boy was, but also because he made something cry out in Gauche's memory. When brought up to Thunderland Jr, the man had been fascinated. 

“Interesting...” he'd mutter and write in his notes. What he wrote, Gauche had no idea. 

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	5. Chapter 5

So we're starting to see where things actually began for the two, and why lag seems so familiar. Hopefully it goes better for them in the future! Maybe

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“winter”

 

Winter was always his least favorite season. It was especially harsh in Blue Note Blues, he remembers. Not that Lag had ever left the crumbling old fortress. Still, the cold sapped away the warmth and the wind howled through the cracks in the stone walls. 

Trotting down the hallway, he wondered if his friend had ever seen the snow up close. He wondered if it was as puffy and soft as it looked, or if it was cutting and painful like the cold was. Guards and the routine workers regarded him respectfully although the boy ignored them as he passed. 

At the end of the long, dark corridor in the bowels of the fortress, his friend's door peered out of the grimy wall. Lag side stepped the dark sticky puddles that seeped from a few doors, humming quietly as he approached his destination. 

Peering inside of the slat in the lowest part of the door, the boy blinked. He couldn’t see the man at all. Had he been taken out? That didn’t seem quite right. No one ever left this place. Rubbing his hands together and tugging his sweater over them, the boy looked around and frowned. 

Lag headed back up the narrow stone staircase, ignoring the cries from beyond the doors. He used to be afraid of this place. Guards told him monsters and bad people were here. His mother though, had told him not to believe everything he heard. 

His mother...

She hadn’t been well lately. She coughed hard and slept for hours at a time, and shivered no matter how many blankets Lag brought her. Sighing, he watched his breath puff around his hands as he blew into them. His friend hadn’t been well either. 

Lag was only seven. His birthday was coming up to. The thought that his friend, like so many others, would die was a thought that weighed heavily on his mind. Would his mother die to...?

Shaking his head fast, the boy furiously dispelled the thought. Only the people in the basement died! 

Passing by the window, Lag blinked. A procession of dark cloaked people were crossing the courtyard, an eerie sight in all of the white snow. Frowning, he wondered why these strange guests were here. 

Hurrying down the hall, the boy opened the door and called, “Mommy! We got visitors!”

Silence met his call. Blinking, the boy looked around the lushly decorated room quickly. No one was there. Actually, now that he looked, there were some things overturned and one of his toys was broken. A strange feeling shot through his chest. 

What was going on...?

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	6. Chapter 6

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“magic”

 

“Momma said I was magic, y'know.”

He hadn’t asked, either. Gauche paused in his lunch, glancing at the boy across the table. Lag ate like any kid his age would. Messy. Spooning his cafeteria lunch into his chubby cheeks, the boy glanced up. 

“Really now...”

“M'tellin the truth. See,” he lifted a hand and pulled back the fringe that covered his left eye. Gauche stared, a mixture of horror and awe filling him. Nestled in his eye, surrounded by scars, was a deep red piece of amber. The eyelid was completely missing and it looked like the stone was too big for the socket.

Years ago, the stones had been magic, used to combat massive robot bugs. Or so books had said. Now the pieces of amber were little more than props or occult collections. But Lag's eye was clearly not a naturally occurring specimen. 

Who had done that...? 

Taking his expression to mean he believed him, the seven year old let go of his hair and grinned. “See? Momma says they put it in when I was a baby, but that it makes me magic. Says the bugs like me.”

Bugs...? Gauche didn’t try to guess. Of the many things he couldn’t recall, some things caused intense reactions. Thunderland Jr theorized that the kidnappers may have used these stimuli to cause this. 

The man didn’t have the heart to tell the boy that his mother had let mad men cut out his eye and stuff a piece of rock in the socket. He probably wouldn’t believe Gauche anyway. 

Lag continued happily, eating while he spoke. “Momma says that I was born cuz of the sun, that’s why its gone. That I'm the last hope.” he seemed proud, glancing up. “Arencha jealous?” he teased.

“Not really...”

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	7. Chapter 7

Dun dun dun! The plot not only thickens, but its basically a stew of confusion! I bet you'll all be so happy when things finally get explained C: soon enough~

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“radio”

 

“Ah, excuse me...”

Gauche watched the man stand, hurrying from the room. He could hear, faintly, the sound of some sort of chaos down the hall. The way Thunderland Jr rushed out, it must have been serious. The door closed hard behind him.

Frowning, Gauche felt a tinge of unease bubble up. He wondered what happened... 

From the man's desk, a new looking radio crackled with static. It was smooth and rounded, ornate for something for a doctor, he thought. It buzzed a bit, before a scratchy voice began to echo from it.

“The BeeHive has issued a warning for Central and its surrounding areas to stay indoors!”

An emergency? Confused, Gauche stood and took a step closer. It was cutting out now and then, but he could just understand it.

“...-tack on...thought to be...anti-government group,...”

It suddenly blasted with sound, as if the microphone had been knocked over. There were sounds of gun fire. Chills shot up his spine. 

His head ached...

Holding a hand to his head, Gauche sucked in a breath through his teeth. Whether it was the still blaring radio or the just out of reach memory, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t have to wonder for long though. 

The door burst open, startling the man as he turned to see the source. A frantic, wild eyed Lag stood there, panting hard. The boy took one look at him and swallowed, hurrying to him and grabbing his arm, hard. 

“W-We have to go!” 

Confused, Gauche moved to pull his arm away. “W-What...?”

“We gotta go!” the boy cried, yanking at his sleeve. “M-Momma...momma is out there!”

Gauche didn’t know what was going on. The way the boy was staring at him, like he was capable of something frightening, made his stomach lurch. It didn’t occur to Gauche that Lag was only 7, what harm could he actually do?

Footsteps pounding on the floor shook him from his thoughts. Lag stiffened and desperately pulled, crying for him to follow. He'd been on the brink of giving in, when Thunderland Jr and several men in long coats stormed in. 

Lag turned to look, swallowing hard and hid behind Gauche. “S-Stay away! I-I'll hurt you!”

The men, doctors Gauche thought, paid that warning little mind. Thunderland Jr stepped forward, gesturing gently for the boy to calm down. “Lag, we're not here to hurt you.”

“Liars!” the boy shouted, closing his good eye tight. He buried his face in the small of Gauche's back, shaking his head. “You're lying!”

Gauche had never felt so confused in his entire life. Something told him to protect Lag. But from what? These men had never harmed him. This kid was crazy, hadn’t he thought that the day he met him?

Against his better judgment, the man took a step back, nudging the boy along with him. The doctor in front of him frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Whats going on?” Gauche countered, swallowing.

“Nothing is going on.” Thunderland Jr said, sighing as if this was becoming a chore. “Lag heard about the attacks. He's in a delusional state.”

Something told him that Lag really was crazy. The talking about magic, following him, talking as if they were friends, it was all out of control. Who was to say this was any different?

Who was to say Lag was crazy though...? Could he live with himself if he let this unbalanced child be harmed...?

“Wherever he's going, I'm going.” Gauche said, firm and without any room for debate.

A silence hung between the two men, broken only by Lag's watery sniffling. Gauche thought, for a wild moment, that they'd just open fire on the two of them. The doctor sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

“If that’s what you want.”

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	8. Chapter 8

So this ones a bit gruesome if you knew the background to how this fic even became a thing. Which you'll start to understand as the story continues, but to give a hint, it was partially based on a recent-ish kidnapping. 

Warnings: ideologically sensitive themes! 

 

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“presence”

 

Money, Gauche mused, was an amazing thing. This fortress looked like it was a palace, once upon a time. Tall french windows lined the hall that he was currently walking along. A heavy stack of boxes teetered in his hands as he fought to keep them from tumbling down. 

So far, it'd been a good choice to come to Blue Notes Blues. They'd promised room, board and ample pay, and Gauche was pleased to say they'd delivered. At only ten, he was doing pretty good for an orphan. 

I can definitely go home soon, he thought happily. 

It was frigid, but worth the cold and pain. This part of the fortress though, was a toasty warm. Must be where the owner lives, he thought. It looked like a palace. Surely it belonged to someone powerful, someone rich.

Suddenly, there was a startled gasp as he stumbled into someone. The boxes pitched forward, clattering noisily to the ground. A few spilled open, the contents tumbling to rest at a pair of dainty feet. Gauche stared down at the mess, panic swelling in his chest, before a gentle voice called to him.

“Are you okay??” 

Looking up quickly, Gauche found himself awe struck. The woman before him looked like a goddess. Long, silky cornflower hair fell in graceful ribbons down her back and shoulders, framing a thin, lovely face. A delicate hand rested lightly over her swelling stomach.

She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

Pounding foot steps echoed around them and, suddenly, Gauche was grabbed up by powerful hands. Startled, he looked around frantically, the awe shattered. The woman gasped and raised a hand to stop them, as a slim man stepped ahead of her.

“What happened?” the man, a slim, snake like person, asked.

Swallowing, Gauche fought to find the words. “I-I...”

The man took one look around the hall, at the scattered valuables, and sighed. Without a word, the guards began to haul the boy away. Looking between them, then to the woman, Gauche found his voice.

“W-Wait!!! I-I didn’t mean anything!”

No one listened. The last time he saw that beautiful woman, she was watching him in open horror.

000 

A chain connected the two by the ankle, preventing either from moving. Not that Gauche could see Lag. They were separated by a thin wall, the chain snaked through the baseboard. It was frigid. The metal burned where it rested against his ankle.

Sighing, the man let his head thunk against the chilly wall. Through the wall, he could hear Lag's quiet sniffling, could feel every tug of the chain. Even when the boy wasn’t in the room, he could feel his presence in some way or another. 

How had this happened? 

Memories, like snow flurries, drifted slowly through his mind. Memories of frigid winters, the cell, Lag's vibrant sepia eye watching him through the slot in a door. Ever present, was that painful cold that seeped into his bones. 

Thunderland Jr had locked them up, promising to let them out when things calmed down. That had been hours ago, and the sounds of sirens outside hadn’t faded yet. Gauche wondered if they'd ever leave.

“G-Gauche...?”

Blinking, the man glanced at the wall. Lag's voice was scratchy and weak. “Yes?”

It was quiet for a moment. “I-I'm scared...”

His heart ached. Closing his eyes, the man sighed to himself. “Don’t be. We'll be out soon.”

“I-I wanna go home...I w-wanna see my mom...”

He didn’t know what to say. The silence hung between them for a long time. There was a gentle tug at the chain and he blinked. The tug came again. Gauche tugged back. The tugging stopped. It didn’t take but a moment to realize that Lag had been trying to get his attention. To make sure Gauche was still there, still aware of him.

Swallowing, the man said, quietly, “We'll find her.”

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	9. Chapter 9

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“promise”

 

Panting, Gauche turned a corner and swore quietly when he came to another locked door. Behind him, Lag was trembling, little legs having a difficult time keeping up with their harried pace. Muttering, the man tugged at the boy's hand and headed down another hallway.

The BeeHive was alight with chaos, sounds of footsteps pounding on the linoleum and voices echoing off of the walls. They didn’t have much time to make their escape. They'd find the unconscious doctors soon. 

“G-Gauche...” Lag called, stumbling as they hurried along. “W-Where are we going...?”

Glancing over his shoulder, the man did his best to sound confident. “We're looking for a stair well. You remember the one, where they let us go to the garden?”

The boy nodded, worrying his lip. Gauche smiled, or tried to. “That’s where we're heading.”

Or they would be, if every door they'd come across hadn’t been locked or guarded. A couple of unsuspecting doctors was one thing, but there was no way they could get past armed guards. As it was, Lag was a wreck from their initial escape attempt.

It hadn’t taken more than a few well placed hits to take down the two doctors who'd come to his side of the cell, but saving Lag had been...rough. His hands still ached from holding the chain so tight around the man's neck. 

Shaking his head, he reminded himself to be vigilant. Keeping to the wall, Gauche glanced around a corner. The door was unguarded, a small miracle. It should, if he remembered right, lead to the examination floor and there should be an employee only stairwell that lead out and to the back of the building.

Sucking in a breath, he glanced at Lag. The boy was worse for wear. Not physically, because he'd made sure that the boy was unharmed before they fled, but mentally he wasn’t doing well. If they had to run or hide, or Empress forbid, be separated, he feared that Lag wouldn’t make it. 

Still, what could he do? 

Making his way towards the door, Gauche pressed an ear to the cool metal. Hearing nothing, he fished for the ring of keys in his pocket. Somewhere a few rooms down, he heard a shout. Swallowing, he jammed the key in the door, opened it and yanked Lag after him as he hastily closed it behind them.

Not much time at all, apparently. 

Gauche barely remembered most of their exodus from the building. He knew that Lag had been spectacularly cooperative for such a tiny crybaby, but from that stairwell to the cool night air of the garden, he didn’t remember much at all. 

It was exhilarating to be out of the stifling building. The stones beneath his bare feet were cool and grounding in what felt more like a dream than reality. A breeze rustled the trees gently, the only sound in the silent night. 

Lag's little hand tightened around his own. Glancing down, Gauche felt something well in his chest as the boy looked around anxiously, as if at any moment someone might jump out at them. His wide sepia eye was dazed, cheeks tracked with tears and snot. 

Kids shouldn’t look that scared, he thought as he dug in his pajama pants for a handkerchief. Kneeling down, the man scrubbed gently at Lag's face. The boy whined but allowed the cleaning. 

“We're almost out...” Gauche said quietly.

Lag snuffled pathetically, worrying his lip. “W-Where are we gonna go...?”

Gauche paused, frowning. The only place he could think to go was to Blue Notes Blues. It was the only other place he could remember before the hospital. Still, the fear in his heart reminded him that that place had nothing good to return to. 

“C-Can...can we find momma?”

Blinking, the man glanced up. Lag shuffled a bit, watching him with a hopeful expression. What could he say to that? Definitely not no, not to that face.

Sighing, Gauche felt a tired smile tug at his lips. “Sure. But lets get out of this place, first.”

Lag's face positively lit up, a wide smile splitting his dirty face. He nodded fast. “Y-Yeah!”

It was hard not to catch the excitement as the man tugged the boy after him. Climbing the fence, the two vanished into the shadows around the building. 

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	10. Chapter 10

Ohoho! Back story! A bit short, because I cant write too much before it gets spoiled. But! It'll be soon.

Warning: ideologically sensitive themes, hinted rape.

Onward! 

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“regret”

 

It was cold and dark in the dungeon, something perhaps Anne should have expected. Sighing, the woman tugged up her skirts as she made her way through the damp and narrow hallway. Her stomach was swollen and it made it difficult to walk now. 

She came to stop at a sturdy wooden door, raising her hand to knock. She paused, heart aching when she heard a soft sob escape the occupant. Taking a breath, the woman knocked gently. All at once, the sobs stopped. 

A raspy, nervous voiced murmured, “W-Whose there...?”

Chewing her lip, Anne responded, “Its...Anne. I was the woman you bumped into.”

The silence that hung between them was suffocating. Unspoken bitterness radiate from the child. She sighed, brushing back her hair. “I wanted to...appologize. You met such an unfortunate fate because of me...”

Silence met her words. If the occupant felt anything, if they accepted her apology, they gave no indication. Closing her eyes, the woman let out a slow breath. “I also wanted to let you know that... I asked for you to be one of my servants. So that, at least until your service here is up, you can leave that cell.”

This, the boy seemed to react to. There was the soft noises of cloth scraping against the stone floor, before two thin and worn little hands grasped the bars in the window. Anne was startled to see a pair of vivid sepia eyes peer out at her, distrust darkening the lovely color. 

Taking in the young woman, the boy appeared satisfied with whatever he saw. “W-When do I start...?”

Letting go of the bated breath she'd been holding, Anne let a small smile form. “Tomorrow.”

000 

Life as a servant was significantly different than that of a menial laborer. Gauche wasnt sure if it was any better or worse, given that the change of tasks all had their own downsides. He was relieved though, that Anne was such an easy person to care for. 

Although she looked so far along in her pregnancy, the woman informed him that she was only 5 months in. Gauche paused in his task, finding it hard not to stare at the massive belly. The woman laughed softly. 

“I'm sure its nothing serious. At least, the doctors tell me I'm doing fine.”

Gauche circled around the bed to help her settle against the pillows more comfortably. She was such a thin woman, aside from her enormous belly. “Why do they call you the Empress...?” 

Glancing at the boy, her smile faded a touch. “I was the Empress's daughter. Well, before all this, I was.” Anne gestured to the grand bedroom. 

Perhaps to her, this wasnt grand at all. Or maybe it looked grand, but hid an ugly underbelly. Gauche could definitely see how such a beautiful home could hide something dark and unpleasant. Blinking, he eyed her face.

“But I thought... that she went missing?”

Anne gave a soft sigh, closing her eyes. “In a manner of speaking. I was young and afraid, so I thought this place was the right choice for me.”

How alike they were, the boy mused.

“And...it wasnt?” Gauche ventured, sitting on the bed.

A tired smile tugged at the woman's lips. “No. I became a figurehead for a cult. I became pregnant. And now, I cant go back even if I want to.”

The ache in her voice drove a stake through the boy's heart. Something told him that this belly was filled with nothing but disapointment. It wasnt something he had the luxury of being unaware of. 

Opening her eyes a bit, Anne frowned. “Oh, dear, dont you worry. I'm sure everything will be fine. My child and I will be happy, one way or another.”

Gauche blinked, smiling just a bit. He didnt need to worry about Anne. She was a strong woman, despite how frail she looked. 

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	11. Chapter 11

Aaaand now we get just a bit further into the mythos of the world lag and gauche inhabit. Due to various things, the fics will last more than 12 chapters! Probably something like 15. now i'm wishing I could go back and add to fics... agh

warning: spoilers! 

 

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“window”

 

Beyond the sterile walls of the BeeHive, the world wasn’t the shimmering place Lag expected. Of course, he hadn’t expected to leave the way he did either. His mother was supposed to sweep him into her slender arms, kiss his cheeks and settle into the carriage she'd ridden in to get here. 

Instead, he and Gauche had hid for hours wherever they could, avoiding the sound of pounding footsteps when they came near. The town's warning bell was banging away, echoing far into the expanses around Yusari Central. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Swallowing, the boy looked up at the dusty ceiling, counting until the sounds of the police faded away. Gauche knelt by his side, a stolen gun clenched in his white knuckled hand. His eyes had taken on a strange sharpness that Lag had only seen one other time before this night. 

He didn’t want to think of his protector and best friend as someone capable of awful things. Swallowing, Lag rubbed his eye lightly. He was exhausted, hungry and the cold bit through the thin pajamas they wore in the medical wing. But right then, he was just scared.

Gently, Gauche took the boy's hand and murmured, “We're going to move to the next building. Ready?”

Lag felt his stomach sink, nodding shakily. His heart rate ramped up as the man lead him, kneeling down beneath the window sils, towards the door. They'd managed to make it to the outskirts of the city, near the old and crumbling buildings that no one used anymore. 

000 

The ground rumbled beneath the carriage wheels, making sleep difficult to come by. No matter what he did, Lag found sleep to be elusive. Rubbing his eye sluggishly, he peered around the small interior. There were a few benches, a few other travelers. Nothing particularly exciting.

Besides him, Gauche dozed off peacefully. The man practically collapsed once he was certain that they were safe, leaning into the hard seat and tugging his worn coat closer. He looked so peaceful, Lag thought enviously. 

It had been days since their escape from Yusari Central, days since either had fully rested. It was hard to imagine life before the sudden exodus. Lag almost missed the gross cafeteria food and stiff cot. He definitely didn’t miss getting prodded and poked though. Stretching, he eyed the inky darkness outside of the window. 

Once upon a time, this dark world had a sun. It had gone away, only to be replaced by a new one. His mother used to tell him stories about the world 200 years ago, about the savior Chico who had protected them from a corrupt government. She told him that he'd come from a long line of powerful women, magical ones.

Lag honestly wasn’t sure about all that. What he did know, was that the world had bent to cater to any whim he'd had back in Blue Notes Blues. He'd been praised as a messiah. 

But outside of his frigid home town, his powers didn’t mean anything. They couldn’t save him or Gauche from prowling guards or wanted posters. They didn’t bring food or warm clothes.

Swallowing hard, Lag glanced up at his sleeping friend. Gauche would protect him, he knew. Ever since Lag could remember, the man had been his friend and protector. He'd taken Lag away from that horrible place, and now from Central. 

Yes, Gauche was here, he reminded himself. There was no reason to worry. 

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	12. Chapter 12

Rewrote this twice, because I was trying to catch the right mood and events. Pretty plot relevant, yay!more awkward bonding.

Also pay attention to ages now, cuz time is about to start jumping around. For plot reasons. 

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“train”

 

The world around them was a harsh one. Lag was certain that, if magic had existed, it didn’t any longer. Drifting from town to town, the pair sought shelter from the elements however they could. Most times, they couldn’t afford a hotel room. They'd hole up in an abandoned building or a cave near a town.

They'd made it as far as Lamento town, dirty and exhausted after months of traveling. Sighing heavily, Gauche dug in his pocket for their small bag of money. Besides him, Lag glanced around anxiously.

The town was strangely quiet, most shops closed for the night. The few people in the inn's reception room seemed to be on their way out, heavy bags slung over their shoulders. Gauche passed the crinkled rin over the counter and the receptionist took the money eagerly. 

“Lag, come on...”

Startled from his wary observations, the boy blinked and nodded. He slipped his hand into Gauche's, an unspoken gesture of anxiety. The man squeezed his hand back and they headed up the narrow flight of stairs to the left of the desk.

The room was small, one bed and a cramped bathroom. A narrow, drafty window faced the road. Over all, a luxurious room compared to the cave they'd slept in the other night. Lag headed for the bathroom, dropping his clothes by the door as he went. 

Gauche couldn’t find the energy to laugh at the boy's clumsy attempts to pull his socks off. He gathered the clothes up and dug in his bag for the supplies to wash them. 

It had been nearly a year of hiding wherever they could, avoiding the government and the wanted posters. Gauche was fairly certain they'd be safe here, even if it was only for a night. 

They both washed up, their clothes scrubbed clean and hung over the tub's curtain rod to dry. Lag had burrowed into the bed, snuggled into the scratchy blankets like a mole. Gauche envied his ability to fall asleep so easily, as he sat on the edge of the bed. The fabric was an assault on his chilly skin, and he felt distinctly uncomfortable sleeping naked, but exhaustion was winning out.

Back aching, the man squirmed to find a comfortable position, his bones creaking as they set back into place after nearly three months of sleeping on the cold hard ground. Finally though, he found a position that seemed to do the trick. Sleep found him quickly and he accepted its embrace gladly.

000 

 

A clattering of metal and the roar of an engine woke the man early that morning. Blinking sluggishly, Gauche sat up slowly and winced as his back protested. Glancing to his side to see if Lag had heard the ruckus, he was surprised to find the bed empty.

Looking around the small room quickly, he spotted his friend at the window. He was standing on tiptoes and peering out over the window sill to see the road. Frowning, Gauche called quietly.

“Whats the matter...?”

Lag didn’t turn to face him, peering fixatedly at the road. “There’s trucks. They got the Bee Hive's mark on 'em.” 

Frowning, Gauche stood and made his way to the window. Peering out, he found that Lag had been telling the truth. A long line of heavy trucks were rumbling down the road, soldiers sitting in the back of the open ended beds. A number of people were crowding around the sidewalks, murmuring to one another.

Whatever was going on, it didn’t look good. Gauche left the window and went to gather up their clothes. Blinking, Lag broke himself away from the procession of vehicles to watch his friend curiously.

Gauche tossed Lag's now dry clothes to him, before beginning to tug on his own. “We should get ready to leave.”

Lag frowned, but did as he said, tugging on his boxers and undershirt clumsily. Gauche wasn’t someone to overreact. They gathered up their belongings and left quickly. Making their way out of the inn, they slipped between the crowds. 

At once, Gauche could tell something big was happening. The murmurs of the townsfolk were unsettling at best. Pausing behind a small trio of women, he listened. 

“I hear they're going north, for that group's stronghold...”

“They're going to wipe them out, I hope...”

“That’s what I heard. There’s even a barricade outside of town.”

“Really??”

“Yeah, you can see it from behind the Abbey!”

A barricade? That didn’t sound promising. Frowning, Gauche glanced to Lag. The boy was just as involved in listening in as he'd been, and met his gaze. His one vivid eye shone with fright. Gauche could tell he was thinking about his mother. 

“We need to go.” the man said quietly.

Lag opened his mouth to argue, but the shadow of a truck fell over them. Inside, he could see a familiar shock of white hair and a starched lab coat. Swallowing back his complaints, Lag nodded. They left as quickly as they'd come.

000 

Lag dug his heels into the recently tread earth, looking at the tire tracks with deep concentration. Gauche paused, glancing back at the boy. His face was the picture of seriousness, which would normally be adorable on an eight year old if Gauche didn’t already know what his friend was thinking. 

“Lag...?” he called, voice soft.

The boy kept his gaze down. “W-We have to go back.”

Sighing quietly, the man felt his shoulders sink. “Lag, we cant. There’s a barricade. The army is passing through.”

The boy looked up, lips tugged downward. “But...But what about my mom!”

Turning to face the boy fully, the man felt exhaustion creep up his spine. “She's fine, Lag. She's behind a castle wall in an impenetrable fortress.”

He wasn’t deterred. “We got out.”

“With keys and deception.” Gauche supplied.

“But we did.” Lag insisted, balling his fists at his side. “So they could get in, to.”

Stepping to the boy, Gauche knelt so he could look directly into Lag's clear, sepia eye. From this angle he could more clearly see the layers of fear and worry. Bringing a hand up, the man pet him gently. Startled, the boy's lips formed a thin line. 

“She'll be fine.” the man said softly. “But you are the one who wont be if we go that way. You're a wanted person. They'll haul you back to Yusari and use you to barter for your mothers life. That’s if they don’t kill you first, because they might not recognize you.”

Stiffening under the man's hand, Lag's face turned white. Sighing, Gauche drew him into a loose hug. Lag clung to him like the world might end. Nuzzling the boy's soft, clean hair, he murmured, “I promise, we'll see your mother again soon. But tonight is not the night. I promised her I'd keep you safe, Lag. So please don’t make me a liar.”

The boy bowed his head, sniffling loudly. “O-Okay...”

000 

The doors to his mother's throne room were open, Lag noted warily. No one but the priests were allowed inside, not even himself. Peering in, he could see one of the hooded men from the procession he'd witnessed earlier. They held a long mop and were sloshing it across the floor in precise ways. Something tangy and metallic was in the air. 

A great well of terror swelled up in his chest. Something was very wrong. Of course, Lag had always known his mother and himself were special. They shared a special link with their own god, one who'd seen the world at the worst part of their histories. 

But something about this awful smelling room with men and their mops, didn’t seem to fit in right. Swallowing hard, Lag stepped back from the door. His back hit a pair of knobby knees. Whirling around, the boy held back a sob as he peered up at familiar sepia eyes, like his own. 

They didn’t speak. He took their hand and let them pull him away from the door, away from that room and the murmurs inside of it. 

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	13. Chapter 13

So fun fact! I had like a mini adventure planned but then I realized i'd have to squash it into one chapter and no matter how much I tried, I absolutely couldnt. And I really tried, for a few months. Hence, the extreme lapse in updates D; forgive me.

But oh boy, the plot really kicks in now. We begin to find out all sorts of stuff in the next 2 chapters! And whats that I hear, is it...uncomfortable topics coming up? Oh boy~

warning: the topic of pedophilia I suppose?   
Disclaimer: I own nada, zilch, zero~

h-hopefully its a good enough chapter that people dont hate it to death.  
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“butterfly”

 

Their breath misted before them, obscuring the world momentarily as it drifted away. All around them were the remnants of a town long since razed to the ground. Lag gave the charred wooden rubble a passing glance, his gaze steady and as icy as the snow covered landscape around them. 

Gauche adjusted his grip on their worn and weathered shared rucksack, looking around in much the same way. A dull sting told him something tragic happened here, but he had little empathy left for strangers or the dead. 

“Lets keep going.” the man said, voice low and tired. “Blue Note Blues is still a few miles away.”

The boy nodded, picking his feet up and moving through the deep snow with some effort. He hadn’t been in the snow in a long while, having spent so much time hiding in the south of Amberground. It simply hadn’t been safe to go anywhere near this part of the world in a very long time.

As far as the eye could see, snowy hills and iced over lakes spread out before the duo. It brought back memories of running under the expansive, never ending bank of stars with Lag, barefoot and free. Nothing could ever quite compare to the euphoria of escaping into such a beautiful world with someone he loved.

Tonight was a clear night as well. The stars spread out in clusters that seemed to surround them on the mountain pass they were walking through. It was like a river of diamonds, Gauche thought, feeling his heart beat just a hair faster. 

Beside him, Lag's eye glittered with the lights as he paused to stare up at the sky. His hair caught the shimmering of the sky and snow, breathtaking, and it took Gauche a long moment to remind himself that he wasn’t supposed to stare at his friend like this. 

It took a lot of effort, but he tore his gaze away and back to the sky. The small, crybaby child had grown into a handsome boy, nearly to Gauche's chest. His hair had grown long, chopped short with a knife only just recently, and his eye had taken on a sharp look to it. The plumpness Lag once had, had given way to long, lanky limbs.

At one point, Gauche could have described Lag as feminine, but it would be hard to mistake the thirteen year old for anything but the budding young man he had grown into now. And with these changes, came the daunting task of guiding Lag through something Gauche only barely grasped himself.

Sighing, the man forced himself to focus on the snowy trail, navigating the slippery road with mild difficulty. Lags steadily growing body, his uncomfortable new feelings for the boy, none of this was important right now. They were exhausted, cold, hungry and this mountain was dangerous. He needed to focus. 

Through the lightly falling snow, they spotted the cluttered collection of lights and houses, smoke climbing through the perpetual night sky lazily. Gauche heaved a sigh of relief, turning to glance at Lag. 

The way his friend was staring at the town, Gauche knew he remembered it. Probably much more clearly than he himself ever would. This had been the place Lag was born, where he'd lived as a prince and idol. Where his beloved mother lived. 

Two years ago, Lag would have bolted unthinkingly down the side of the mountain, probably to his death. Time and the harsh reality of the world around them had dulled that purity. He just stayed staring, jaw clenching and shoulders drawn. 

Gauche set a hand on his shoulder, anchoring him to the present. Lag started, looking up to the man. For a moment, he just looked at him, searching the tired man's features for something. Somehow, Lag found a smile to tug on like a sweater. 

Butterflies raged in Gauche's stomach. But the smile was not for him, he knew. 

000 

Snow fell lazily, almost seeming to stand still in the sharp mountain air. The quaint town of Blue Notes Blues that he had once upon a time gazed at from his frosty window was now a shell of its former glory. All around them, were charcoal sticks that once were sturdy beams and crumbling hearths from homes no more. 

Chewing his lip, the boy looked around in a daze, lost in his memories. Beside him, Gauche eyed the destruction around them. The government had not been kind. For this very reason, he'd kept the boy away from the town for so long. All along their journey here, scars of battles past marked the land. It only seemed right that this snowy little town, the epicenter of so much grief, would bear the strongest marks.

The duo trekked onward, heading for the smudges of smoke against the inky sky. The long winter nights were especially cruel here. Hopefully, they could find an inn or a kind soul. Or a cave, if it came to that. 

Past the burned out husks, squat buildings emerged from the darkness. A warmth filled the boy as he noted the cheerful fires in the windows and candles in bedroom window sils. Even in the midst of so much chaos, people still found room for happiness. 

A frozen fountain sat in the middle of the town, shadowed by a looming wall and crumbling spires. A pit formed in Gauche's stomach. He didn’t think he could handle returning to that miserable place. 

Casting a glance to Lag, he felt his stomach drop. A small smile turned the corners of his lips. Lag, in spite of how terrified Gauche felt, was home. He was finally back in the place he'd loved. A shudder ran through him. “We should find a place to stay, Lag.”

He received a grunt for his time. Lag continued to stare up at the silhouette of his home. A growing panic welled up in the man's stomach and he felt the desperate need to shake the boy out of his trance. 

A soft gasp startled the man from his panic. Turning, Gauche felt the lump in his throat stick. A young woman stood there, a basket dangling from her arm. Her wide eyes were stuck to the back of Lag's head. 

“I-Its you...Y-You've come back to us!” she cried, shaking with the strain of emotion.

It took a moment for Gauche to connect the dots, before he felt the hazy memory surface. Lag, finally tearing his gaze from the fortress beyond, turned to look at the girl quizzically. He didn’t recognize her at all.

“What are you talking about...?” Lag murmured, hand moving to his waist band. 

The girl, oblivious to the unspoken threat, continued to babble. “Y-You're the empress's child, the one who's supposed to bring us out of the darkness!”

Understanding lit up the boy's face. All at once, his hand dropped from his hip and a small, relieved smile swept away the doubt from his eye. A worshiper. He'd almost forgotten about them. “I've come back...” he said softly. “How is my mother? I miss her so much.”

Eying the boy, Gauche worried his lip. The girl's joyous expression froze, and then crumpled. Looking down, she fumbled for the right words. “She...I...”

Lag's jaw clenched and his hand twitched. “She, what?”

The girl looked like she might start crying, before a large hand settled over her head, ruffling her hair gently. The trio looked up, startled. The hand belonged to a hefty man, middle aged perhaps, with a curly white mustache and a balding head to match. He wore a warm smile, as if this sort of occurrence was rehearsed. 

“Please, forgive her.” he said cheerfully, “Its only natural for her to be so overwhelmed. We didn’t think we'd ever see our messiah ever again.”

The line of the boy's lips grew stiff. “That's not very reassuring.”

“Its been...a very hard time, since you went missing.” the man said, smile wavering in the face of what Gauche were sure were bitter memories. “Why don’t we talk this over inside? I'm sure you two must be cold and hungry.”

Not to mention filthy and exhausted, Gauche mused. Glancing to the boy, he was relieved to see his little friend chance a quick glance to him as well. Swallowing, Lag nodded. “We'd really like that.”

000 

Dinner, Gauche decided, was decidedly...unique. A seemingly still twitching lizard sat on each of their plates, an array of what looked like half thawed side dishes centered around what Gauche assumed was the main course. 

The man, as it happened, was the village chief. He had welcomed them into his massive, although worn with age, home. “Eat, eat, you both look so thin!” a plump woman said, a warm smile on her tired face as she set down a tray of tea. 

Far be it for him to turn down the first real meal they'd had in weeks. Carefully cutting into the lizard, Gauche took a bite and felt his back crawl. Gross...

Beside him, Lag ate with much more gusto, an expression of quiet joy dying his cheeks red. A small smile curved his lips as he dove into what looked like ice...pudding? Well, if Lag – picky eater, fickle child that he was – could eat this, Gauche certainly could. Truth be told, he'd never been privy to Blue Notes Blues' cuisine. He'd gotten porridge or whatever was stuffed through the slat of his cell most days. 

The chief poured cups of tea for them each, smile ever present. It must be strange to host someone you'd regarded as a deity all your life, Gauche mused. “After you eat, you're welcome to take a bath and retire, if you'd like. We have a lot to talk about, when you're ready.”

“Thank you very much, sir.” the boy said, setting his fork on his plate lightly. “I'd like to know what happened here. Is the fortress still operating...?”

Sighing quietly, the man stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Right to the hard parts. Well, I'll be honest with you then.” he said, looking the boy in the eye. “We were devastated. Our defenses were spread out so thin, the army hardly had to work to obliterate them. The fortress is...” here he paused, trying to find the right words. “No longer in use.”

Lag's lips tugged down into a frown, teeth catching one to worry at. “So...everyone is...?”

A long, pregnant silence hung between the two. Lag cast his gaze at his empty plate, expression empty. Swallowing, the boy closed his eye and said softly, “I'd like to be excused, if its alright.”

The man nodded with a solemn expression. “Of course. Let me have someone show you to your room.”

000 

It was dark when Gauche stepped into the room. They'd each been given a spacious guest room to stay in, complete with what had to have been a nice fire before Lag had come in. The wood was frigid under the man's damp feet as he made his way hesitantly towards Lag's bed.

The boy's shoulders and side rose and fell in quick succession under the thick bed sheets. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Gauche ran a hand over the boy's still greasy hair. A shaky breath escaped the lump of blankets. Turning, Lag burrowed his face in the man's stomach. A hand emerged from the cocoon of warmth to grasp at the loose sweater Gauche had been allowed to use, knuckles white. 

Neither of them spoke. In the soft yellow light from the lamp posts outside, the boy's hair glowed a sickly gold. Every few seconds, weak gasps escaped him and with each one, Gauche's sweater dampened. Running a hand gently through the slick locks of hair, the man felt his heart break. 

He couldn’t stand seeing Lag like this. 

After a while, the boy's quiet sobs faded. His grip remained tight and Gauche knew he wasn’t going to let go that night. Lifting the blanket, the man began to climb in. Lag squirmed the minimal distance required to allow the man passage into the bed without letting go of him. Laying down heavily, Gauche sighed. It felt so good to be in a bed again. Lag curled against him, face buried in his shoulder. 

They stayed that way, clinging and silent, the rest of the night. 

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	14. Chapter 14

Whoooo we get to explore more of 13-14 year old lag's personality and behavior! Also, one chapter leeeeft whooooo!

Warnings: offscreen sex, onscreen kissing and suggestive behavior, spoilers? Ish?  
Inspiration: “chocolate” by snow patrol, “heart of fire” and “obsession” by innerpartysystem, “crave you” by flight facilities and probably a dozen more.

W-whoo...one chapter left... its going by so quickly...

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“fog”

 

It wasn’t that anyone told Gauche he was in danger, so much as it was the feeling in the air. Heavy, ominous whispers outside of Anne's room dripped with a mystery he wasn’t sure he wanted to solve. In the frigid cellar, more and more people went missing every day. 

Anne, herself, was tense and drifted about the room like she was heading for a death sentence. In the room next to hers, Gauche knew Lag was sleeping without a care in the world. She looked to the window that offered a sweeping view of a great lake and a cavern, pensive. 

“Gauche,” she said softly. “I have a request.”

When she turned her gaze on him, hair falling into her eyes, he knew he couldn’t say no. 

000 

“We're going to the fortress.” 

The mayor's fork paused in its ascent towards his mouth. Flaky meat from the chilled Tiki Tiki they were eating dropped from the utensil with the sudden halt. Looking up, the man seemed to want to say something. 

Regardless of anyone else, Gauche knew Lag would do what he felt was right. Lag continued to eat slowly, dipping his forkfuls of Tiki Tiki in a saucer of soy sauce as if what had been said was a casual statement. 

Gauche ate some of the fish from the serving platter, skirting the strange raw lizard. The mayor straightened up, remembering his voice. “I'm afraid the gates been boarded up. Even if you could open that, the courtyard is impassible...” 

Not deterred, the boy glanced up. “There’s a secret passageway.”

Whereas Gauche had lost his memories, (or rather, repressed them) Lag had not. The man had no doubt that his little friend remembered every brick of the frigid hallway that lead out. Sighing quietly, the mayor brought his fork to his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. 

As if the thought occurred right then, the plump man beamed suddenly. “You could go around the town and meet everyone, as well! Our long lost messiah is a sight that would buoy the people's spirits.”

Frowning, the boy glanced to Gauche as if to ask, should I bother? Gauche wondered if it was just the years abroad or genuinely the old Lag who thought something like that. He nodded though, because he had seen the state of this village. It would be a good idea regardless, if they wanted to be welcome here for any length of time. 

With a touch of resignation, Lag nodded. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt...”

000 

The town was ecstatic, as the man had predicted. Once word got around that their messiah was home, people poured from their houses to flock around them. While Gauche was distinctly uncomfortable with the large groups that cried the boy's name, Lag seemed entirely in his element. He smiled warmly, spoke in a soft way so few heard these days and even agreed to play with the children.

Perhaps it was all ego. Gauche was relieved though, regardless. He'd missed that smile and the tinkling laughter. Besides, he needed to shop for supplies. 

Wherever he went, people whispered. It was unnerving to say the least. As Gauche paused to inspect a pair of woolen socks in a shop window, he noticed movement. Blinking, he looked up in time to see the door to open, the chimes at the top tinkling. 

A thin man with a neatly groomed mustache gestured for him to enter, a cheerful smile tugging at his mouth. Or it looked like it was. There was so much facial hair, Gauche couldn’t be sure. Stepping in, the man sighed a bit in the warmth of the shop.

It was a cozy place, wracks of tidy stacks of clothing lining the walls as well as the center. Beyond, was a row of counters and a cash register. Just by looking at the socks, Gauche had known this was a pricey store. But being inside definitely proved that. 

Still, he felt it would be rude to leave so soon. That and the man was lingering at his side. “Did you need anything? Socks, trousers?” he asked cheerfully.

Gauche felt almost bowled over by the sheer enthusiasm. “Ah...um, socks...” he murmured.

With a flurry, the man ushered him towards a rack of socks. He spoke about the quality, the type of material used, the durability. Gauche had never known there were so many types of socks. The prices were all outrageous regardless, though. As if sensing his thoughts, the man took several pairs from the rack and called for someone.

A moment later, a woman came out. He turned to her and said, “Would you help me gather this young man's purchases?” 

Gauche fumbled for words, never good at awkward discussions. “A-Ah, wait...I cant possibly afford...”

“Its all on the house.” the man said cheerily, dumping the socks in a basket the woman had gone and fetched. “Pick whatever you need out, its all taken care of.”

It was surreal. Before he could speak, the man was guiding him around the shop. In no time at all, he had enough fresh socks, underwear (the huge boxers Lag liked so much) and new pants and shirts to last several years. They'd wrapped the clothing up and tucked them into sturdy paper bags. With that, Gauche had left feeling decidedly...odd. 

No matter where he went after, similar happenings occurred. By the time he got back to the room he'd designated as he and Lag's, he thought his arms might fall off. He had three bags of clothes, at least five of food, books, bathing supplies, new boots and Gauche's head was spinning. It had been... probably his entire life, and he'd never been privy to these high quality items. Least of all for free. 

He'd have to thank Lag for this later. 

000 

By the time Lag was free from the throngs of people, it was late at night. They ate together with the mayor and spent the next hour or so bathing and marveling at their new clothing. Lag beamed when he held up the enormous boxers.

“I thought I'd never get another pair of these again!” 

Laughing a bit, Gauche sat on the bed. “It was the strangest thing.” he said. “People just kept giving me things.”

Humming, the boy kicked off his worn out pants and tugged on his new boxers. “That’s because you're my “disciple”.” he said, admiring the clean, starched fabric. “Or something. They think so anyway. Its probably uncomfortable though, right?” he laughed anxiously. 

It took a lot not to admire the nicely muscled legs, but Gauche had an astounding amount of will power. “It is. But its nice, we needed all of this.” 

Digging in a bag for a thick sweater, Lag glanced up at him. “Its alright. We should enjoy it while we can. We'll miss it when we leave.”

For some reason, Gauche had assumed that Lag would want to stay there forever. Probably, they could live off of Lag's deity status for the majority of their lives. “Do you want to leave?” he asked, watching the boy's expression carefully. 

Lag tugged out a button up cardigan and hummed thoughtfully. He didn’t answer immediately, choosing instead to tug on the garment and button it. “I don’t think I can keep it up.” he said softly. “Everybody wants me to be this god, to take them to a better place in life. I don’t even remember half the things mother taught me.”

That made sense. Nodding, Gauche laid back on the bed. “I understand. It would be hard to keep this going.”

Lag didn’t respond. Carefully, he stepped over the numerous bags and boxes and sat next to the man on the bed. The mattress dipped under his slight weight, tipping Gauche slightly. He looked up at the boy, their eyes meeting for a moment. 

One thing that hadn’t changed, Gauche mused, was how expressive Lag's sepia eye was. The boy didn’t need to speak. He didn’t need to make a gesture, even. As easy as it was to get lost in his gaze, Gauche read the thoughts as if they were written plainly on paper. 

Is this alright? Are you alright with that choice?

Gauche let his mouth tug into a faint smile. He propped himself up on an arm to meet the gaze easier. “Its fine, Lag. Our goal hasn’t changed. Until then, it doesn’t matter where we go.”

Chewing his lip, Lag leaned down, brushing his forehead against the man's. Closing his eye, he let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you.”

“Its nothing.”

And it really was. Gauche would move heaven and Earth for Lag, if that’s what the boy wanted. Lag's mouth tugged into a faint, wry smile as he adjusted the angle of his head slightly. Breath hitching, Gauche told himself not to move. 

Chapped, cool lips brushed against his lightly. They lingered for a moment, barely touching, before the man brought a hand up to Lag's cheek, guiding him closer gently. A tremor raced over the boy, fingers tightening in the bedsheets. 

It seemed to go on for eternity, that barely there kiss. When Lag pulled away, his cheeks were dusted a soft pink. Swallowing hard, the boy stayed put, breathing shaky as he watched his friend's expression intently. 

If Lag was looking for something, Gauche wasn’t sure what it could possibly be. In the time it took the man to catch his breath and calm his speeding heart, the boy had shifted his weight. For a moment, Gauche was terrified he'd somehow messed up, before Lag settled heavily over his stomach. Legs on either side of the man, he rested his hands on the worn fabric of Gauche's undershirt.

A long moment passed. It was Gauche's turn to search the boy's eye, to verify his intentions. At almost the same time as Lag leaned forward, the man realized this wasn’t a child anymore. Not in the sense that he would have liked. No amount of praying to an Empress would turn back the hands of time that had taken the boy's delicate mind and reshaped it into something stronger and harder. 

There wasn’t enough time to process this epiphany, as Lag's mouth found his once more. Vision filled with the boy's downy white hair and lashes, it felt as if they'd been taken to another world. 

A good person, Gauche mused, would push the boy away. But, since when were they good people? 

He wrapped his arms around the slight boy, pulling him closer.

000 

When Gauche woke next, he wasn’t sure what time it was. Outside, snow fell slowly. As a child, he'd often thought it looked like long strings of flower fluff strung up by fairies. The shadows the snow cast through the window gave him the feeling that it was snowing inside of the room as well.

Tucked snugly against his chest, Lag rested his head on his arm. Gauche knew he was awake by the way his lashes occasionally brushed against his upper arm, and the way his breathing hitched when his fingers brushed against his stomach. 

“Are you alright?” the man asked quietly. 

Nodding lightly, the snowy head of hair tilted and a damp kiss was pressed to his arm. “Yeah.”

Silence over took the room. The snow falling seemed to be the only movement in the world right then. Gauche was content to leave it at that. There wasn’t a thing he could say that would take the tension from the boy and he knew without asking why. 

After what felt like eternity, Lag murmured, “I want to go to the fortress.”

Nodding slightly, Gauche pressed a kiss to his head. “Right now?”

Lag nodded. If not now, then it felt like they never would. They'd be swept up in a tide of pleasing followers, trying to stem the waves of shattered hopes and crushed lives. “Alright.”

With that, they peeled apart from one another. Reaching down, the boy grabbed his boxers and tugged them on, not watching as his friend did the same with the pants that had been kicked to the foot of the bed. The chill in the room seemed to increase without the warmth of the man's body.

Either way, Lag mused, they were whole now. He didn’t need to feel Gauche to know he was there anymore. 

000 

Ice, Gauche mused, was his least favorite surface to attempt to cross. Even more so when Lag was walking so quickly, with a goal before him only he could see. Hugging his coat close to himself, the man wondered where they were heading. A heavy mist clouded the frozen lake and he had no idea where he was going. 

Ahead of him, Lag seemed to fade into the fog. Somehow though, Gauche could tell where the boy was. A warmth in his stomach pinpointed the direction. Like a compass, he never lost the snowy haired youth. 

It felt like such a long time before the yawning, black mouth of a cave loomed ahead of them. Even through the wispy trails of mist, it was formidable. Lag paused, taking his time to drink in the sight of it. 

Years ago, Gauche had all but dragged him from the mouth of this cave. Once upon a time, it had been a sacred site. A place where massive robotic insects were stored, and an enormous golden serpent reigned over the land. Now, it was an icy cobble stone pathway that lead deep under ground. 

Swallowing hard, Lag took a deep breath and closed his eye. Through this cavern they would come to the cellar of the fortress. Opening his eye as he let out the breath, Lag turned to his friend and smiled faintly. 

“Ready to go home...?”

0000000000  
(sweats profusely) would you look at that off screen sex with a plot. And you guys were probs like “she said it was gauche/lag but I never expected her to actually do it.” ahaha...that was kind of uncomfortable to write. Ah well. Onward! One last chapter! 

Side note, if you have fic requests or have a fic you might wanna share, you should check out my stupid tumblr blog, letterbeefics!


	15. K15 Liar

T-this one...its not everything I ever wanted it to be. But...i think that might be a good thing. It doesn’t answer everything 100% either, but I think thats good to. I struggled a lot with this one to. But... its done. If I could rewrite one of these, it'd be this fic in particular but! It was a lot of fun anyway!

Warnings: dark topics, suicide.   
Inspiration: “liar” vocaloid song, I think by miku? Maybe luka?

W-well... last one.  
000000

 

“liar”

Darkness swallowed them up whole. Somehow, Lag seemed to be able to find his way. As the boy slowly limped through the narrow passageway, Gauche felt his heart tug. Memories struggled to worm their way through the cobwebs of his mind, and part of him wanted desperately to clamp down on them. 

It wasn’t so much that talking wasn’t allowed, as much as Gauche felt it might break the near ethereal strings attaching himself to Lag right then. Through the boy, he could see an entire world. Tall, glassy pillars with creatures frozen inside their icy caskets. Slick cobblestones and a lake. So much more than he could express or could be written.

Beyond even that, he could feel Lag. Somehow, deep inside, he could feel a warmth that lead him to the boy. And as terrifying as that was, Gauche refused to willingly cut that tie. So he stayed quiet.

The pathway began to narrow. It felt abrupt, but the man chalked it up to the darkness playing tricks with his sense of space. Lag reached out and pressed against a skinny door. It didn’t budge. As the boy frowned, Gauche set a hand on his shoulder. Blinking, Lag glanced up to him. An unspoken offer stood and the boy moved out of the way. 

With a few hard shoves, the door groaned and fell away from the frigid stone walls. Catching himself before he tumbled down with it, Gauche braced himself against the icy blast of wind. Beyond the narrow hall they had left, a familiar courtyard sprawled out ahead of them. Gauche swallowed back his dread.

Lag wormed his way out around him, coming to a standstill beside the man. His breath caught as he took in the crumbling eastern wing of the fortress. What wasn’t shattered or caved in, had been blasted away at with guns enough to leave the once smooth stone looking like Swiss cheese. The hardy evergreen shrubs that had once lined the neatly shoveled pathways were over turned, their spindly roots reaching up to the sky like lifeless fingers. 

If the two had any doubts about the mayor's account of the fortress, it was wiped away. 

His home...everything...

A warm hand settled on his shoulder, drawing the boy from the crushing emptiness that had begun to settle over him. Swallowing hard, Lag leaned against the man. “I want...I want to know what happened here. Maybe...maybe, mother...”

The boy's desperate whispers broke Gauche's heart. But he didn’t offer his own personal fears up for him to choke on. “We should head for her chambers then.” 

Lag nodded quickly, tangling their fingers together. With a light tug, he began to head along the crumbling courtyard, steering clear of the collapsing eaves. Gauche followed without a word, a feeling of dread swallowing him up as they approached the gaping, doorless entryway. They were flanked by crumbled hedges, as if to guide them towards a hungry mouth. 

Inside was in much the state of the outside. The castle opened into a foyer, the torn and filthy carpet still marked with muddy boot prints. Lag didn’t remember the walls being decorated much, but the little art that hung had been ripped down and the pale part of the stone walls shone like an exposed bone. There were three doors here, but Lag knew from the courtyard that one was blocked by rubble and the second was close to following after it.

Stepping through the door ahead of them, the boy felt his heart thump painfully in his chest. What once had been a grand staircase and a beautiful ball room, was now cluttered with debris. A hole in the ceiling allowed the snow to freely drift onto the cracked tiles below. A snow drift had long since formed, high and blocking a portion of the staircase. 

It was as empty and bleak inside this place as it was inside of Lag's heart right then.

Gauche could almost smell the coppery smell of blood still staining the room. It had little to do with the battle that had taken place in the castle, existing only in his mind.

Tugging the boy's hand, Gauche attempted to urge his little friend forward. Something about this room, with its wide open emptiness and rows of mottled pillars, set a deep chill through him. Lag, surprisingly, followed without much resistance. They made their way up the groaning staircase, testing their weight carefully as they went. 

With every step, it felt as if the air grew heavier around them. Unbeknownst to Gauche, Lag could see the thick banks of Heart that billowed up around them with every movement. It felt like trudging through the thick snow outside, almost.

It felt...wrong.

Wrong to be here, wrong to see these halls without warm lights and the smiling staff as he passed them on his way to his mothers bedroom. Some part, however small, prayed that he'd open up her door and see her resting in bed as if nothing had changed.

The door to her room had been kicked in. 

Swallowing hard, Lag let go of the man's hand. Stepping over the mess of wood and splinters, he held his breath. Everything looked like it had the night before he'd escaped with Gauche. Wandering into the room, the boy cast a glance around the dark room. 

Her vanity, the beautiful dark wood dusty but overall unharmed, sat against the wall. Her bottles of perfume and tins of makeup sat, unused and untouched. The glass of the mirror showed his smudged, foggy reflection. 

The ornate rug Lag had loved to play on as a child was moth eaten and molding, but he could still smell where he had spilled her mint perfume on it. The book shelf still held the thick books and his picture books. 

Everything seemed exactly as it should be, except that his mother was missing. 

Gauche stood in the doorway, watching the boy wander about in his daze. It felt wrong to intrude. But the further away Lag got, the less Gauche could stand the way those intangible threads connecting them strained. He took a step into the room. All at once, the weight of the past nearly crushed him, the wriggling memories struggling to escape with renewed vigor. 

Unaware, Lag took a seat on the bed. It groaned miserably under his slight form. “Why did this happen...?”

There were many reasons. Many unkind truths. Too many things. But Gauche knew that those weren’t what Lag was searching out answers for. He didn’t answer him. Some things were best left without an answer. 

Spotting something under the bed, Gauche frowned. He knelt down, fishing it out and blowing the dust off. It was an ornate journal, one he recognized from the many nights he waited on Anne. With trembling fingers, he opened it. It was bookmarked near the end of the book, and he turned to it slowly. A folded, yellowed note tumbled out. 

Eying the paper, a feeling of trepidation blanketed him. This wasn’t his to look at. A shuffling of fabric snapped the man from his thoughts. Glancing up, he spotted Lag watching him curiously, blinking.

“Whats that...?”

Worrying his lip, Gauche offered it to the boy. Lag took it hesitantly, unfolding the worn paper carefully. He skimmed it, the color draining from his cheeks. “Its...from my mother.” he murmured.

Gauche watched the boy warily. “What does it say...?”

Lag didn’t answer him for a long moment, the light draining from his eye. Alarmed, the man stood and went to his side, setting a hand on his shoulder. “Lag?”

The boy shoved the paper into his chest, shoulders quaking with the effort to suppress his rising anguish. Frowning, Gauche rubbed his back and pulled him close, ignoring the paper for the moment. A cold sweat had broken out on the boy's neck and face, the chill in the air doing little to help. 

“R-Read it...” he breathed, voice catching. 

He wasn’t sure he wanted to, after a reaction like that. Chewing his lip, Gauche took the crumpled paper and smoothed it out. Anne's delicately looping handwriting caught his attention at once. 

By the time you read this, I'll already be gone.

I want you to know, Lag, the truth. I'm sure you've heard from the newspapers, the story of what this place has done. Or maybe Gauche has kept you from the harsh truth. I want you to know though, what happened. Why you left how you did. The truth about your life. About the villagers, about the castle, about everything...

000 

Pitter patter.

Pitter patter.

The only noise Gauche had heard in days was the soft drip drop of water from the ceiling. No tapping of Lag's little feet, not the tortured sounds of fellow prisoners weeping or their delirious rants. 

It was too quiet. 

It drove the man mad. Where had all of the noise gone...? 

Without warning, the silence ended. A tired servant approached the cell and unlocked it. “The Empress wants to see you.”

000 

“Please...I need your help.”

Anne was a shell of her former self. Her beautiful cornflower hair fell in limp strips along her thinning cheeks and shoulders. Gauche stood at her bedside, lost and afraid of the faint way she spoke. As if at any moment, she might vanish.

Nodding dumbly, he watched a thin smile tug at her lips, before it fell again. “They want to do something...something awful, to Lag.” she murmured. Dread shot through Gauche like lightening. “If he stays...”

Gauche didn’t need to hear anymore. Years of servitude, of being forced to participate in the deranged rituals, had taught him exactly what would happen to Lag. He himself had skated by with luck. And a fair bit of help from this woman. 

Swallowing hard, the man nodded shakily. “Of course. But...where...?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Anne said, more conviction to her voice than he'd expected. “Far from this town. It doesn’t matter where. Just...keep him safe.”

 

000 

Anne watched from her window as two dark silhouettes raced through the open air halls of the courtyard. Gauche had been entrusted with a heavy bronze key, the only exit from this never ending nightmare. 

The two slipped into the shadows. And like that, they were gone. 

Warring feelings of sorrow and relief flooded the woman. Shoulders slumping, Anne closed her eyes and let out shaky breath. As much as it killed her to watch her precious son go, she knew in her heart that this was right. 

Sitting at her desk, Anne took out her well worn notebook. She opened it, skimming it with a faint smile. Memories of Lag's birth, of his first smile and laugh, how Gauche had helped her care for him, passed over her minds eye as if they had happened just the other day.

She stopped on a fresh page, the pen nib poised to write. Closing her eyes again, Anne thought of what to write. On the off chance that Lag returned, though she prayed he never would, she wanted the boy to know the truth. Her diary would tell a story of heartbreak and misery, but she wanted her last message to him to be full of warmth. Of love and hope. 

You might not have been the messiah. But to me, you were the world. You may not have been born from a happy union, or from the gods, but I wouldn’t trade these years for anything.

I want you to live happily. I want you to build a happy life away from here, where no more heart ache can find you. Hopefully, Gauche can find you that life. 

I'm sorry that I couldn’t be here for you. I have so many things I want to say, to see. But I will have to settle for knowing you will be safe from this place. That is enough, for now. 

Don’t lose heart, Lag. Be brave and keep looking to the future. I know you can do it. Someday, we'll meet again.

I love you. Good bye. 

A clatter of metal and the sounds of shouting echoed in the hallways. Pausing in her writing, Anne chewed her lip hard. They must have realized that their offering had gone missing. Carefully, the woman bookmarked the place in her diary and looked around. 

Where wouldn’t they find it...?

000 

So much and so little had been answered by the letter. More than could be read, the glowing Heart that lingered around the corners of their eyes clued them into the true story. At some point, Lag's amber eye had reacted to the excess of Heart. 

It was beautiful and disquieting to see the faint crimson glow seep out and around the boy's snowy bangs. But, slowly, it faded. Whatever residual energy had been left in the amber had been exhausted. 

They sat in silence, on the creaking mattress, surrounded by the cold and dust. The shadow of the snow falling outside felt like a creeping web, coming to swallow them up. Gauche wrapped an arm around the boy, pulling his stiff body close. 

Lag let his head fall onto the man's shoulder, breathing shaky and eye welling up. Everything was finally catching up. His mothers last words, the hidden truths he'd yet to read inside of the book that hung limply from his hand. The things he could see and hear from those dim, fogged over frames of Heart. 

Suddenly, the room felt frigid. Even under his thick layers of new clothing, the cold invaded and seeped into his bones. Beside him, Gauche attempted to rub life back into his arms in gentle motions. He pressed his lips to the boy's head, murmuring softly to him now and then. 

Lag didn’t know how long they'd sat in that room, cold and alone, before he heard Gauche speak. 

“We can...we can make a life, still. Somewhere far from here.” Like your mother wanted.

A dull ache tugged at the boy's heart. “We've tried.” he murmured.

The distant memory of the warm port town in the south came to mind. Kindly townsfolk, the closest thing to a mother he'd had in years, their little boarding room. 

Even perfection had been shattered. No matter where they went, Lag only brought misery and ruin. There was no point in searching for a new home. 

Gauche took a slow breath and fought to find the right words to say. It took a moment. “What do you want to do?” 

The man's soft words drove a stake into his heart. But Lag knew, even if his mother didn’t believe in him, that he and Gauche were tied together now. Always had been. What he wanted, Gauche would want. 

Closing his eye, Lag felt a sort of peace settle over him. “Lets disappear.”

There was a pause. For a long moment, he thought that maybe his lover and guardian had left him. His chest ached at the thought. But Gauche didn’t leave him hanging for long. A pair of chapped, chilly lips pressed against his temple. 

“Alright.”

Warmth flooded Lag. He tightened his hold on Gauche's coat. “Thank you.”

Gauche would follow him anywhere. Into hell, into heaven, it didn’t matter. Reaching into the waistband of his pants, the boy traced the cold edge of his worn hunting knife. The muscles of his belly jumped a bit. Gauche's larger hand settled over his. 

“Its nothing.”

0000000000  
so the mentality is a bit hard to follow, but it should come together if you reread it. I thought the logic would be better if I didnt explore it too deeply. Afterall, that kind of hopelessness doesnt usually make sense and even if you could, you couldnt truly describe the hole that lags fallen into. But either way, i'm happy with this!


End file.
